


Pendulum

by alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Heavy Angst, Shounen-ai, Songfic, Suicide Attempt, by Aoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 10:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13545564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist/pseuds/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist
Summary: by AoeDuo is upset and driven to extreme action by Heero's cold shoulder, but is there more to Duo's emotional state than frustrated hormones and hurt feelings?





	1. Descending

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things You Should Know:  
> Uh, yeah... Well, this is odd. I love Duo. I really do. So why do I feel the need to make him miserable? I don't know. Anyway...  
> Song is"Losing My Religion" by REM...  
> Other than that, there is... hmm... only shonen ai, really, plus a horking load of OOC, in my opinion, but I like it this way. Sort of. The last part is the best, but doesn't make a damn bit of sense without the first two parts. So you must suffer. Oh yeah, and angst, angst, ANGST all over the place. But no death, I promise. Just a very close call.  
> And without further ado (cuz really, how much ado do you need?), on with the fanfic!

He made me angry again. I promised myself I wouldn't let him do that anymore, but I've never been that great at keeping promises. And he has a real knack for pissing me off.  
  
He would snort at that idea, and say it's more the other way around, but that's just because he doesn't know me well enough to understand.  
  
Heero-fucking-perfect-Yuy doesn't need friends, after all. I slam the door to our shared bedroom, and it feels good, so I slam it a few more times for the hell of it, but stop myself before I can do structural damage. Wouldn't want to trash Quatre's place.  
  
Another consideration Heero would sneer at.  
  
He is just the absolute center of his own bizarre little universe, you know? Nobody and nothing that is not directly related to his missions has any real importance or meaning for him.  
  
Asshole.  
  
He's not the center of the universe. The world does not revolve around Heero Yuy.

_Life is bigger  
It's bigger than you_

I told him that, just a few minutes ago. Opened my big stupid mouth and bellowed across the table at him.  
  
He just stared at me like I'd lost what few brain cells he had credited me with possessing and went back to eating.  
  
Asshole.  
  
I throw myself facedown on one of the twin beds, pounding my fist against the mattress. Where does he get off, telling me I'm being oversensitive? What the hell would he know about that? What the hell does he know about me?  
  
Nothing, that's what!

_And you are not me_

God knows I've tried to be his friend... I cease pounding the bed as a sudden familiar weariness overtakes me.  
  
I've tried so hard.  
  
It makes me so... tired.  
  
I'm not even sure when getting past his walls, inside his shell, got elevated from a matter of curiosity to an obsession, but it's long passed that turning point. I can't walk away from him, now. I can't let it go.  
  
Lately, I've started to get a little desperate, I guess. But he ignores me so determinedly. I've been reduced to some excessive tactics, just to try and shock a reaction out of him.

_The lengths that I will go to_

I _need_ to get a reaction from him. Any reaction. It was almost better when he used to hit me when I annoyed him. At least he acknowledged me. Now... nothing. Not even that old, brooding, simmering anger that used to be in his eyes whenever he looked at me.

_The distance in your eyes_

Tonight, though... I may have made some mistakes. May have crossed a line or two, said some things that perhaps should have remained unsaid.

_Oh no I've said too much_

I have to admit I walked right into it. I shouldn't have pushed so hard, shouldn't have let _him_ push _my_ buttons. He's too damn good at it.

_I set it up_

I can still see all their faces. I was just frozen, rooted to the spot for a moment in time, as the horrible truth clarified in my brain, as I processed the things I finally forced him to say, that everybody knew, but nobody, not even Heero or I, acknowledged...  
  
They all just stared at me. It was such a weird feeling, being the absolute center of attention in that intensely uncomfortable silence I created for myself.

_That's me in the corner  
That's me in the spotlight_

I flip over on my back, feeling the thin gold chain pinch the skin of my neck. I straighten it gently out of habit, then in a sudden fit of renewed temper, yank sharply, snapping the fragile chain. I hold the small crucifix up to catch the moonlight streaming in the window.  
  
Stupid. Why do I still have this thing? I don't believe in the god it's supposed to represent. I never did, really. For me, it stands for something else. Faith, not in the Christian God, but in dreams. In hope. My secret religion, the belief in a better tomorrow waiting somewhere around the corner. There has to be, doesn't there?  
  
Maybe not. I rub my thumb over the warm metal, wondering if I still believe.

_Losing my religion_

Maybe I'm crazy. I know I'm obsessed, so maybe I really have gone that one step further and become completely unbalanced. I sure can't rationally explain some of the things I've done or said lately, or even the way I've been acting when Heero's around. I don't know why I'm so focused on him. Maybe I just need an anchor, someone to connect with in the middle of this crazy war. Whatever my screwed up reasons, I do need to connect with him. Desperately. So I'm always running after him, chasing him. But I'm always just a few steps behind.

_Trying to keep up with you_

It's getting so hard to keep trying in the face of constant rejection.  
  
And after tonight, well... I guess there's not much point in trying anymore.

_And I don't know if I can do it_

And if I can't have him... what have I got?  
  
Big, fat nothing.  
  
I feel a sickening lurch, almost like vertigo, at the thought. I have nothing. Quatre and Trowa have each other. Wufei can't stand me. And...  
  
And that's it.  
  
My hand has clenched into a fist around the crucifix, and I finally notice how hard I am gripping it as a thin trickle of blood oozes down my wrist.  
  
I shouldn't let myself think these things. I shouldn't ever let myself think this much.

_Oh no I've said too much_

Maybe... maybe I just didn't use the right words yet. Maybe I've confused him, or maybe he's just being defensive. I can understand that. And I shouldn't have started yelling. Nothing productive ever happens once I start yelling.  
  
The thing is, one way or another, I've told him almost everything already. There's really only one thing left to say, and I don't know if I'm ready to say it, or if he is ready... or even wants... to hear it.  
  
But maybe... maybe I should have said it. Laid it all on the line.

_I haven't said enough_

I close my eyes, seeing him in my mind, running through the hundreds, thousands of memory images I have carefully preserved. I am not permitted pictures, they could be found by our enemies and used against us, so memories have to serve.  
  
But memories are imperfect. Memories can be altered in the mind's eye. After all, in the end, we all see what we want to, don't we?  
  
So maybe that explains those few precious images I have of Heero with his face softened by a barely-glimpsed smile, the faint sound of laughter echoing down the hall when I know he's in our room alone, the one or two times after he knocked me to the floor that his hand twitched towards me like he wanted to help me back up...

 _I thought that I heard you laughing_  
I thought that I heard you sing  
I think I thought I saw you try

I open my eyes again, stare blindly at the blood already drying on my wrist, the events of the evening reasserting themselves in my mind. Actually, it's been going on for a while now, I guess. The last couple of weeks, while we've all been holed up in this house together, I've been hanging around him, trying to get him to talk to me, look at me, even yell at me. It's just been getting more intense the last few days, and tonight at dinner, I just couldn't seem to shut myself up. My mouth runs away with me sometimes. Sometimes I really want to be quiet, I know I'm pissing everybody off and just making him hate me more, but I just have to keep talking. Pushing. I need a response. Any response, positive or negative.  
  
I got one.  
  
It took me nearly an hour of verbally dancing around the subject of plans for the evening. All right, be honest with yourself, jackass, you were trying to work up the courage to ask him out.  
  
And he figured that out.  
  
"Are you trying to ask me out, Duo?" He asked me in that flat, cold monotone of his. I should have known then, I should have just said no and let it drop.  
  
I said yes.

 _Every whisper_  
Of every waking hour I'm  
Choosing my confessions

And he said... he said...  
  
I roll off the bed to my feet with a curse, heading for the bathroom. I need a nice, long relaxing soak to deal with this.  
  
A few minutes later I slide into the steaming water, immersing myself up to my chin.  
  
He said no. He said my "little crush" was both stupid and irritating, and I should wake up and realize he wasn't really what I wanted.  
  
Just said that, flat out, in front of everybody. I could only stare at him.  
  
He then told me that he didn't know why I was so fixated on him, but that for my own sake, I should really get over it.  
  
Get over it.  
  
That's when I lost it.  
  
Of course I got defensive. I was as embarrassed as hell, especially when it began to sink in that the things I'd said over the last hour painted a pretty damn clear picture of my feelings. And he tells me to _get over it_.  
  
So I started yelling. I'm not even sure exactly what it was I said, but I know I vehemently denied caring about him at all, because he was such a jerk and treated me like shit, so how could I possibly care about him? And somewhere in there was when I informed him that the world does not revolve around him.  
  
And he just blew the whole thing off. Stared at me for a few minutes, then just went right back to eating. At least the others had the decency to look horrified and shocked.  
  
And I ran.  
  
I close my eyes and hold my breath, pulling my head underwater for a minute, not even caring that I'm getting my hair wet. It's nice under the water, warm and dark and safe. I wish I could hide here forever. Never have to deal with anyone out there. Never have to face my friends' pity and condescension, never have to deal with Heero utterly ignoring me...  
  
How can he? How can he act like I don't even exist, when I spend so much time just trying to stay near him? I'd do anything to just be in the same room with him for an hour a day, or even five minutes. I always want to be with him, watching him, watching over him. He needs somebody to look out for him, you know? And I wanted to be that somebody.  
  
I'm such an idiot.

_Trying to keep an eye on you  
Like a hurt lost and blinded fool_

And now he really knows everything. I really let it all out tonight. I don't know why. It's just that... being cooped up with him these past weeks, it's been getting worse, the need. The desire. This went far beyond friendship and simple lust a long time ago. But he never noticed that.  
  
We probably could have stayed friends if I had just bit my tongue.

_Oh no I've said too much_

But no. Duo Maxwell never lies, and he never shuts up either. I asked for this.

_I set it up_

My lungs are starting to burn, so I surface, the air chilly on my wet skin. I stare at the overhead light fixture, and I realize with growing horror that I really have gone too far this time. I said some things in that last hysterical screaming fit that can't be taken back.  
  
If nobody knew exactly how I felt about him before, they could hardly have missed the blatantly obvious message.

_Consider this... consider this  
The hint of the century_

And... and he just...  
  
Ignored it. It didn't mean anything to him. Wasn't even important enough to beat me up over.  
  
So. Now what?  
  
I feel strangely hollow inside. My hand clutches reflexively at the spot over my collarbone, but I left the crucifix back on the bed. It's broken. Like my faith. Like my heart.  
  
I don't know how I let him become so important to me. I thought I'd learned my lesson about investing too much in other people. They always leave me in the end...  
  
But no. This is worse than if he'd died. He _rejected_ me. The others... they may have left, but they didn't want to. He... doesn't want me at all. He doesn't care.  
  
Nobody does. Why should they? I'm just a stupid, weak, useless, big-mouthed street brat. Nothing special. I'm not like him, perfect and beautiful as a marble statue. I'm not like him at all. And so of course he wants nothing to do with me.  
  
But I said it all anyway. And now...

 _Consider this_  
The slip that brought me  
To my knees, failed

I sink down until the water is just below my nose.  
  
And now.  
  
I sit there in the pleasantly hot water, and I'm still thinking of him, all my precious memories running through my mind, but more than that, all my secret dreams, and worse, my fantasies...  
  
I guess I never really believed they'd come true anyway, but where they used to be a pleasant way to pass the lonely hours, now they are rapidly becoming a torment. They fill my head with images and feelings of closeness, warmth, happiness, comfort, that I will never know. I want... I just want them to stop...  
  
It hurts, and I want it to stop hurting. I want it to stop.  
  
I want it all to stop.

_What if all these fantasies  
Come flailing around_

I dimly realize that I am crying. Normally, this would horrify me, because boys shouldn't cry. But right now, I only distantly register the fact as I sit up in the tub. The single thought absorbing all my attention is that _I want it all to stop_. I can't go on like this. It just hurts too much, and now I know the pain will never be eased...  
  
I reach out to the drawers under the sink, half-lifting myself out of the tub, shivering in the cool air. It doesn't take me long to find what I'm looking for, a pack of disposable razors obviously left behind by one of Quatre's sisters. They're the cheap plastic kind, and it just takes me a few minutes of careful prying and sliced up fingertips to free the thin slivers of metal from their safe pink plastic housing.  
  
I take one of the small blades in my fingers and stare at it for a moment, wondering briefly if maybe I'm overreacting, going too far. So what if Heero doesn't like me? So what if he never speaks to me again? I'm only fifteen, I have the rest of my life...  
  
To be miserable and alone. It was really more than I ever should have expected that I was lucky enough to have three people love me.  
  
It's not like my life has been overflowing with close companionship since then. All I have are casual acquaintances, people I sort of know, but don't really care about, who don't really care about me either. And I'm tired of that.  
  
I needed Heero to give me something more, but he couldn't, or didn't want to.  
  
So I am alone. I will always be alone.  
  
I shouldn't let myself think this much.

_Now I've said too much_

My skin is pink from the heat of the water, blood pressure elevated. I grip the little blade tightly and slice quickly and deeply down the length of my forearm. The right way, this time. I almost sneer at the foolish, childish crisscrossing scars across my wrist, where they are usually hidden by my watch. The blood wells up quickly, and I hardly feel any pain from the cut. The blade was sharp enough that it only stings a bit.  
  
I consider doing the other arm, too, just to be thorough, but both my hands are slippery with blood, and I might not make as neat a cut. I don't really want any more pain right now. So I set the blade on the side of the tub amid crimson smears from my fingers, and let my slashed arm sink beneath the water. The cut stings a bit more at the contact, but it's an almost pleasant pain. I watch the blood flow out into the water in lazy spirals, staining it pink.  
  
I am surprised at how quickly my vision starts to darken. I lay back against the tub, settling into the water as my grip on reality starts to fade into blackness.  
  
I think again of Heero, picture him in my mind smiling welcomingly at me, holding his arms out to embrace me...  
  
Oddly enough, for a moment my vision is overlaid by that familiar pair of cobalt eyes, but instead of being filled with warmth and love they are brimming with fear and grief. His voice seems to echo in my mind, strangely ragged with something like panic.

 _I thought that I heard you laughing_  
I thought that I heard you sing  
I think I thought I saw you try

Well, I suppose it only makes sense that I would like to imagine he will react that way.  
  
I know he won't, though.

_But that was just a dream  
Try... cry... why try?_

The sad truth is, if he reacts at all, it will probably be with an irritated frown that there will be one less pilot to complete our missions. Until I can be replaced.

_That was just a dream_

And for Heero, I know... I can be easily replaced.

_Just a dream_

Goodbye, Heero.

_Just a dream_

I loved you.

_Dream..._


	2. Nadir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Aoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

As soon as Duo bolted from the room, Heero abandoned the pretense of calmly eating and instead pressed his face into his hands wearily, resting his elbows on the table.  
  
"I can't take much more of this," he intoned flatly into the uncomfortable silence.  
  
"Heero... " Sally said hesitantly. Heero dropped his hands to the table and turned a baleful glare on the rebel doctor who was sharing their hideout for a few days. Sally blinked in surprise at the dirty look, then countered it with a glower of her own. "Any particular reason you were so harsh with him, Heero?" she asked coldly.  
  
"Let it rest, onna," Wufei snapped, shooting an irritated glance at the woman. "You have no idea how infuriating he's been lately. Personally, I think he was long overdue for _\--_ "  
  
"You didn't have to be so hard on him, though," Trowa cut in, his smooth voice sharpened with a hint of anger. Heero turned his glare on Trowa, but the taller boy merely frowned, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest. Distantly, the sound of a door repeatedly slamming was heard and ignored by the group.  
  
"You think I should encourage his shallow infatuation?" Heero demanded, reopening a private debate that had engaged the two of them for months.  
  
Trowa's frown deepened as he replied sharply, "I think you're an idiot."  
  
Heero blinked in surprise at this statement, awaiting an explanation that did not seem to be forthcoming. Finally, he was forced to ask. "Why am I an idiot?"  
  
Trowa ignored Quatre's attempt to soothe him, jerking away from the nervous blonde's gentle touch while continuing to glare at Heero. "I don't know, why are you?" he shot back irritably. Then he heaved an exasperated sigh and continued, "Look, Heero, say what you like, but we both know you wouldn't have spent a quarter of the time you have thinking about this situation if you didn't care about him in some way. Deny it all you want, but you've gone months without actively trying to discourage this 'shallow infatuation'. Which, I might add, has been going on a little too long for me to believe it is as shallow as you like to think."  
  
Quatre stared in mild surprise at his very irritated lover, while Wufei merely snorted in disgust and continued eating. Sally looked back and forth between Heero and Trowa with interest.  
  
Heero's scowl deepened at Trowa's accusation. "Well, if I've seemed to be encouraging him, I guess I'm partially at fault, but _\--_ "  
  
"Oh, give it up, Heero," Trowa advised, spearing a carrot on his fork with a bit more than necessary force. "You like him and you know it," he concluded flatly, popping the vegetable into his mouth, ignoring Heero's infuriated and embarrassed glare.  
  
"I... " Heero began, then trailed off into silence, not sure what to say. He wanted to refute Trowa's statement, but... he had to admit, there might be some truth to it.  
  
"Maybe I... don't hate him," Heero admitted after a moment's contemplation. Then he frowned again. "But my feelings are irrelevant. It's become painfully clear over the last two weeks that this little obsession of his is interfering with his ability to fight. And I can't allow that."  
  
"Has it occurred to you that perhaps if you gave him just a bit of the attention he's craving, he might not be in such an agitated state?" Trowa asked calmly, having regained his usual composure. His emerald eyes still held a hint of angry fire when he glanced over at Heero, though.  
  
"Agitated?" Sally interjected with a slight frown.  
  
"Agitated isn't the word for it," Wufei muttered, shooting a dark glance at the hallway Duo had run down after leaving the table. "Infuriating. Psychotic. Manic. Any of those might be a better choice," he commented irritably.  
  
Sally's frown deepened. "That's... interesting. I'll admit I don't know Duo all that well, but he always seemed to me to be a very easygoing person, maybe a little hyper, but not to the point of being irritating. Whenever I've spent time with him, he's been very friendly and energetic, but... "  
  
Quatre sighed, rubbing at his forehead. "Yes, normally I would agree with you, Sally. Duo and I spent a month cooped up together once, and I actually think I might have gone crazy with impatience and cabin fever if it _hadn't_ been for him. He always had an idea for something to do when I was bored, but he was just as willing to sit and talk quietly for hours, or even to leave me alone and just amuse himself when I wasn't in a sociable mood. It's just lately that he's been... so... " Quatre sighed again, shaking his head in weary confusion.  
  
"And it's just lately that he's suddenly increased his interest in me," Heero cut in coldly. "Therefore, these two variables are likely related, and eliminating one should remove the other. He'll be upset for a little while, and then he'll go back to normal." Feeling secure and vindicated in his conclusions, Heero nodded his head sharply and began eating again.  
  
"Which does nothing about addressing your feelings for him, but that's your business, I suppose," Trowa commented blandly, spearing another carrot. Heero shot him an angry look.  
  
Quatre was chewing his lip, brows drawn in thought. "Actually, Heero, I don't know if I can agree with your reasoning," he said almost hesitantly. Heero glowered at the Arabian, but Quatre refused to be intimidated by that silent stare. "Emotions are rarely that clear cut. Saying that it's Duo's feelings for you that are making him act oddly is one thing. It's likely that his attraction to you is at least a factor of his behavior. But to say that by ending that infatuation, which, by the way, isn't likely to happen just because you told him to, will return him to 'normal'... well, I don't think it's plausible," Quatre concluded worriedly.  
  
Sally had set her fork down now, and was staring raptly at Quatre as he spoke. "Quatre," she said when he fell silent, "you seem to be the best person to describe how Duo's behavior has changed recently. You obviously have spent enough time with him to know him well, but you seem able to be pretty objective, too. Something about this is bothering me, and I'd like it if you could explain just how he's been acting."  
  
Quatre frowned at Sally's intense scrutiny, but shrugged his shoulders in acquiescence.  
  
"I'll try. I'm not sure when it started, really, because when we all showed up here two weeks ago, he was already acting a bit oddly. He'd been on a few solo missions for the weeks previous. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe something was off way back then, because I asked him about the missions, and, well, he was a little hard to follow, but... Well, he seemed even more impressed with his own performance than he usually is, but at the same time, from what I could understand, he almost ran into trouble several times because he was getting sidetracked... Or that may just have been the impression I got because of the way he told the stories. He keep going off on tangents, confusing me, but I couldn't really seem to get a word in edgewise." Quatre paused frowning.  
  
Wufei snorted and complained, "Like that's anything new with Maxwell. He never shuts up."  
  
Heero shot the Chinese boy a brief glare, much to Trowa's amusement, and snapped, "That's not fair. He talks a lot, but he's always willing to listen, too." Wufei just snorted again. Trowa raised an eyebrow at Heero, who dropped his eyes to glower down at his plate.  
  
"That's just it, though," Quatre said, frowning thoughtfully at Heero. "Lately, he hasn't been listening very well. He's been louder, and almost...well, obnoxious," he admitted, ignoring Wufei's snicker.  
  
"Hard to follow sometimes, too," Trowa offered. "It's been like he has too many things on his mind at once, and is trying to talk about all of them at the same time. It's kind of confusing."  
  
"It's not just his conversation, either," Wufei informed them, shaking his knife to emphasize his point. "The other day, we were both out working on Nataku and Deathscythe, and when I went over to see if he was coming in for lunch, he had the comm system completely disassembled, had a diagnostic program running on his ECMs, and was in the middle of adjusting the placement of the safety harness. He kept flitting back and forth between all three, as if he couldn't stay focused on any one task for more than a few minutes." Wufei shook his head, frowning in disapproval. "Flighty, weak-minded idiot," he muttered, earning yet another glare from Heero. Sally scowled at him, too. He ignored both of them.  
  
"Anything else unusual?" Sally asked. Quatre frowned curiously at her. Trowa stared at his plate, seeming to contemplate the question. Heero tapped his fork against the table.  
  
"It's been a lot easier to make him mad," the Japanese boy finally offered in a flat voice. Sally nodded slowly, frowning in thought. "And he hasn't been sleeping," Heero added quietly after a moment. At this, Sally looked over at him, an intent expression on her face.  
  
"Not sleeping at all?" she asked.  
  
Heero frowned at her sudden sharp interest, then shrugged. "Not much. An hour or two, now and then. Not a whole night through in over a week now. I don't think he slept at all last night, and if he did the night before, it wasn't much."  
  
"How do you know, Heero?" Quatre asked curiously.  
  
Heero shrugged again. "Part of my training was biorhythm and metabolism regulation. I don't really need to sleep like normal people. I retain an awareness of my surroundings so that I can't be taken by surprise. It's more than enough awareness to know when Duo is awake and restless compared to sleeping," he concluded in a slightly weary tone. Quatre smiled ruefully, having spent a few nights sharing a room with a wakeful Duo Maxwell.  
  
Sally was staring at her plate thoughtfully. "Sally?" Quatre asked after a moment. She jumped slightly, as though startled out of her thoughts, and looked up at him. "Do you think... is there something actually wrong with Duo?" Quatre asked nervously.  
  
"You mean besides the usual?" Wufei muttered sarcastically. Everyone ignored him.  
  
Sally stared at Quatre for a moment, then dropped her gaze slightly with a pensive frown. "He's very young," she commented, apparently talking to herself more than her companions. "But it tends to show up early in life. And...the symptoms...it really sounds classic. A textbook case, almost."  
  
"Textbook what?" Quatre pressed. Heero was staring at Sally with an utter lack of expression on his face. Trowa frowned worriedly at the doctor, gripping Quatre's hand comfortingly. Even Wufei shot the woman a sidelong glance of almost reluctant attention.  
  
"Well, I'll admit I've only seen it once, but from what I've heard tonight, Duo's case sounds quite similar... " Sally crossed her arms over her chest, obviously reluctant to voice her concern.  
  
"If there's something wrong with him that will endanger our missions," Heero began coldly.  
  
"He's our friend," Quatre interrupted forcefully, shooting Heero a mildly reproachful look. "If he has some kind of problem, he'll need our help. Please, Sally... " He turned his earnest sea-blue gaze on her.  
  
She sighed, but gave in to his unspoken request. "Understand, I'm not a psychologist by any stretch of the imagination... but I have encountered something like this before, and from what you've described... Well, I think Duo may be having a manic episode," she concluded grimly.  
  
Wufei sniffed disgustedly. "I thought we'd already established that," he declared. Sally frowned at him.  
  
"This is serious, Wufei. I don't mean that he's just more hyper than usual. A manic episode can be very dangerous. If that's what he's suffering from, there's the possibility of delusions or even hallucinations... he really ought to be hospitalized for observation, and his own safety," she concluded unhappily. She shook her head. "I know that's not an option, but... "  
  
Heero's grip on his fork had tightened to the point that the stem was bent nearly in half. He didn't seem to have noticed this. "This is a dangerous condition?" he asked quietly.  
  
Sally nodded. "It's possible it may be only a hypomanic episode, which is less severe and not as dangerous, but from the description you've given me, I think the situation may be a bit more extreme."  
  
"What is causing this?" Heero demanded.  
  
Sally frowned. "Well, as with most psychological illnesses, that's still up for debate, but the prevalent theory is that the manic cycle is a result of an excess of the neurotransmitter norepinephrine," she explained patiently.  
  
"So then it's treatable," Heero concluded flatly.  
  
Sally nodded slowly, but she was frowning.  
  
"Sally? What else?" Quatre asked softly.  
  
Sally sighed. "Well, the thing is, manic behavior... an episode like this one... is not usually an isolated thing. Because eventually, the body will use up all the excess norepinephrine, but then there will be too little instead of too much, and _\--_ "  
  
"And the lack results in a depressive episode of similar proportion," Wufei concluded quietly. Everyone looked at him in surprise, but he just stared grimly at Sally, his earlier dismissive attitude forgotten. "You think he's bipolar," Wufei stated flatly. Sally returned his intense stare, and simply nodded slowly. Wufei swore softly to himself in Chinese.  
  
"Wufei?" Quatre asked hesitantly. "Do you know something about this?"  
  
Wufei scowled, pushing the remains of his dinner around with his fork. "The workings of the mind, both the chemical and psychological, intrigued me for many years," he finally commented. "I'm not an expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I've certainly read a great deal about bipolar disorder." He shot a dark glance at Sally, but the woman thought she detected the beginnings of worry in the depths of his eyes. "I should have seen it sooner. Now that I'm thinking about it, the symptoms have been quite clear. I just dismissed them as Maxwell being more annoying than usual. But this is... " Wufei shook his head, sighing wearily.  
  
"So you're saying that sooner or later he'll snap out of his current mood and shift into depression?" Heero demanded, absently discarding the mangled fork. Quatre was too preoccupied with concern for Duo to wince at the damage. At Sally and Wufei's nods, the Japanese boy frowned. "So what happens then?"  
  
"Well, depressive behavior can take many forms... " Sally began reluctantly.  
  
"It won't be good," Wufei predicted unhappily. "Considering the intensity of his symptoms right now, I'll be damned surprised if he doesn't swing just as far in the other direction." Sally turned wide, shocked eyes on the Chinese boy.  
  
"You don't think he'd really... " she protested nervously.  
  
Wufei shot her a look that was a wan shadow of his usual condescending sneer. "Think about it, onna. We try to kill ourselves all the time when we're _not_ depressed," he muttered.  
  
Heero, who had picked up his knife, bent the hapless utensil into a neat U shape.  
  
"He'll be... suicidal?" Quatre whispered, his eyes shimmering with tears of worry.  
  
Sally frowned. "It may not be that bad _\--_ " she protested.  
  
"It's Maxwell. It'll be that bad," Wufei pronounced gloomily.  
  
Heero abruptly rose from his chair so quickly that it toppled over, clattering loudly against the floor. He had disappeared down the hallway to the room he shared with Duo before the chair had settled against the hardwood floor.  
  
"So... what should we _\--_ " Trowa began in the sudden silence, but he was immediately interrupted by Heero's loud shouting for help from down the hall. The four at the table spared a moment in shock to stare at one another as they each caught the unmistakable note of panic in that usually cold and unemotional voice. Wufei's comment of "I told you so" as they all jumped from their chairs to go to Heero's aid was oddly subdued.  
  
Almost mournful.


	3. Ascending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Aoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

  


I step inside the door quietly, carefully not looking at the still form on the bed. Instead I watch Quatre, who puts down his book at the soft sounds I deliberately make to alert him to my presence. He smiles wanly at me, and raises a cautioning finger to his lips, shooting a glance at the bed. I nod, message received, and stand aside to let him slip out the door.  
  
When the portal has been quietly shut behind Quatre, I walk over and drop into the padded chair that has been dragged into the room for all of us to sit in as we watch over Duo.  
  
Once I am settled, I allow myself a moment to stare at him. He is curled on his side, facing away from me. His light blue tee shirt, Quatre won't let him wear black right now, has gotten pulled up to just below his armpits, and a broad expanse of pale slender back is exposed to my view. I can see the knobs of his vertebrae, and I wonder briefly what it would feel like to run my fingers down the length of his spine.  
  
His somewhat disheveled braid lies across the mattress, trailing off the bed just a few inches from my seat. I almost reach out and touch it.  
  
"He's gone," I say instead, keeping my voice flat and even. Familiar. Soothing, I hope. "You can stop pretending to be asleep."  
  
"Thank God," is the muffled reply from the other side of the bed, but it is a few minutes before he rolls onto his back. And even when he does, he doesn't look at me.  
  
One of the possible symptoms of a manic episode is an increased libido, I have been told by a rather embarrassed Wufei. Increased interest in sexual activities, even a sort of 'acting out' in a sexual manner. 'He's never pursued you so blatantly as he did for the past two weeks. It's almost certain that's the cause.'  
  
A few extra chemicals in his brain and he's throwing himself at me. A lack of those chemicals, and he's barely interested.  
  
If I'd needed proof that so-called 'love' was a biochemical hoax...   
  
"Do you hate me, Heero?" he asks softly. He does everything softly now, ever since... My mind shies away from the thought.  
  
It will take some time for the medication to start working. Eventually, his mood will stabilize. He will be the old Duo Maxwell again. The one I understand. The one I know so well, too well... The one I...   
  
Damned chemicals.  
  
"No, I don't hate you," I answer patiently, as I have every time he has asked me that for the past three days. That has been the extent of our conversation. I have never had a gift for babbling, and his depressive state has left him with little energy or enthusiasm for his usual pastime. Today, though, he surprises me. Perhaps he is beginning to recover.  
  
"Why not?" he asks, his voice mildly confused, as though we are discussing the weather and not my feelings for him.  
  
I squirm a bit in my chair, earning an incredulous glance. I do _not_ squirm, but then, he hasn't looked at me since he woke up, so I guess that's a point for both sides. Not that this is a competition.  
  
"Why would I hate you?" I counter, which isn't fair, answering a question with a question. He frowns slightly at me.  
  
"Please, Heero, no amateur psychology, okay? I get enough of that from Wu and Sally," he complains, rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling again. I don't really understand his meaning _\--_ I would be the _last_ person to practice psychology _\--_ but I accept his refusal to let me dodge the question.  
  
"It wasn't your fault," I begin lamely, my voice halting and uncertain for once. This is unfamiliar territory. I am uncomfortable with this topic, and I wish we could just drop it, forget this whole thing ever happened, and go back to being the way we were a few weeks ago.  
  
But of course, we can't. He'll never be quite the same. And I...   
  
I have had to face up to a few things I would rather not have.  
  
I will never be the same either, I guess.  
  
He snorts, lips quirking in a bitter little smile so unlike his usual easy grin that it makes something catch painfully in my chest. "Well, whose fault was it then?" he asks, his tone laced with self-disgust. He lifts his bandaged arm off the bed and raises it over his head, staring at the tightly wrapped gauze. "I seem to recall holding the razor," he concludes grimly.  
  
I am not sure what to say to that, and become even more uncomfortable when silent tears begin to leak from the corners of his eyes. His face tightens slightly in anger. At himself.  
  
"You weren't yourself," I finally manage.  
  
He gives a harsh bark of laughter and lets his arm fall back to the mattress, wincing slightly. The tears continue to flow as he mutters in a slightly choked voice, "No, I wasn't. I'm still not. This isn't me, Heero, I don't act like this! Damn it! Why can't I just stop being so stupid? Why can't I just be the way I'm supposed to be, the way I've always been?" His voice has taken on an almost pleading tone, and I am shocked to hear my own wishes echoed by him. Though I shouldn't be. His memories of the way things used to be are just as clear as mine, and he is even more confused and uncomfortable... and, perhaps, frightened... than I am right now.  
  
"It's not your fault," I repeat, wishing I knew the right words to soothe him, to heal wounds I can't even see.  
  
"That doesn't change anything," he murmurs wearily.  
  
"No. No, it doesn't," I admit. Then I frown, and finally reach out and touch him, for the first time since _\--_  
  
_water-slick skin smooth under my fingers, vacant violet eyes staring past me, through me, he is too light and the water is dark with blood **there's so much blood**_

I blink the memories away again, tightening my grip on his unbandaged arm. "But it doesn't mean you give up, either," I add grimly.

_When the day is long and the night,_  
the night is yours alone,  
when you're sure you've had enough of this life,  
well hang on.

He turns his head to look at me again, his eyes red-rimmed from the tears he can't control right now. He will, though, in time. He'll survive this. He's strong, so much stronger than he knows.  
  
So much stronger than me.  
  
_Trowa and Wufei both roughly pulling my arms away, prying my fingers from his wet skin, he is limp and light in my arms, Quatre is taking him and **I don't want to let go**_

He turns fully onto his side, facing me now. Apparently, he is ready to talk. I'm not sure I am. He releases me from his gaze, his eyes shifting to the bandages on his left arm.  
  
Blood flow from the heart to the left arm is more immediate than to the right. Numbness or tingling in the left arm is a sign of heart attack. Excellent choice.  
  
Sometimes I am so logical it makes me sick.  
  
"When did you get the other scars?" I ask, marveling at my calm, even voice.  
  
He shrugs with one shoulder. "A couple years ago. Prof. G bandaged me up and shook his head in disgust, kept me restrained for a while until I promised not to do it again and meant it."  
  
"Aa," I acknowledge softly, not sure what to say to that. Was it an earlier episode? Did Professor G realize this problem existed and do nothing to treat it? Or did he just assume Duo was having a bad day?  
  
A bad day.  
  
My own bad days have left far less visible marks.  
  
He is picking absentmindedly at the gauze, his gaze abstracted. I should tell him. Tell him that he's not alone, that everybody has their demons, their pain...   
  
Their bad days.

_Don't let yourself go,_  
everybody cries  
and everybody hurts sometimes.

His eyes mist over with tears again and he swears under his breath, scrubbing at them with the back of his hand. After a moment he gives up the effort with an exasperated little noise.  
  
"I think I hate that the most," he mutters, scowling even as the tears continue to soak the pillowcase beneath his head.  
  
"What?" I ask, mildly confused.  
  
"All this _crying_ ," he explains, imbuing the word with a tone of disgust usually reserved for far more heinous crimes. His eyes meet mine again, reddened and puffy, but still glowering angrily. "I don't cry like this, Heero. Boys don't cry," he informs me harshly.  
  
I frown slightly, considering this. I remember...   
  
Standing over the body of the first man I ever shot up close and personal. At eight years old, I can only dimly comprehend the enormity of what I have done, but my eyes cloud over in an instinctive reaction that I don't really understand...   
  
Fourteen years old, holding a dead puppy in my arms. I can't find her owner, the little girl who gave me a flower and asked if I were lost, and carefully erected barriers shatter painfully...   
  
Four days ago, Trowa drags me out of the room where Wufei and Sally are tending to Duo's pale, still body with quiet efficiency. We would only be in the way, but I am reluctant to leave and have to be forced down the hall to Trowa and Quatre's room, where he sits me on the bed, and just watches me, as though waiting to see what bizarre thing I will do next. I do not disappoint him when I feel a sharp prickling behind my eyelids and try to blink it away, producing tears for what may be only the third time in my life...   
  
"Everybody cries," I argue in a subdued tone.  
  
He just snorts in denial of my words. "You don't," he mutters.  
  
I could contradict him. I could tell him how much it hurt when I thought... How surprised and frightened I was by the strength of my own feelings, that I had been ignoring for so long...   
  
I could tell him all of these things.  
  
Instead I just sigh slightly and take his damp hand in mine.

_Sometimes everything is wrong._  
Now it's time to sing along.  
When your day is night alone, (hold on, hold on)  
if you feel like letting go, (hold on)  
when you think you've had too much of this life,  
well hang on.

"I'm sorry to be causing so much trouble for everyone," he comments after a while. He is staring distractedly at our joined hands, but he hasn't tried to pull away from my touch.  
  
"It's no trouble," I inform him, watching him stare at our hands.  
  
His lips quirk in a derisive grin. "Oh, sure, weeks of psychotic behavior and suicide attempts, just par for the course," he argues mockingly.  
  
"Manic behavior," I correct reflexively. "And there was just the one suicide attempt."  
  
He rolls his eyes at my literal-mindedness. "Well, you could consider my chasing after you like a vixen in heat as one big, long suicide attempt," he comments, self-mockery evident in his tone.  
  
I shrug the comment away, not wanting to deal with the implications. "It doesn't matter, baka. You're our... friend. We put up with your problems like you put up with ours. That's how it works, isn't it?" I demand, a bit more sharply than intended.  
  
He looks up at me, surprise evident in his wide eyes. Then, slowly, so slowly, like the sun rising after the darkest night, a fragile smile lights his face.  
  
Sometimes I almost forget how truly beautiful he is.  
  
"Heero," he says softly, almost as if he is afraid too much sound will shatter the moment, "that's the first time you've ever called me your friend."  
  
I blink at him in surprise. Can that really be true? I reflect briefly on our interactions in the past...   
  
"I'm... sorry," is all I can think of to say. It seems woefully inadequate.  
  
"For what?" he asks curiously.  
  
"For not telling you sooner," I explain lamely.  
  
His eyes slide shut, but his smile remains. He murmurs, "S' okay."  
  
The hand I am still holding squeezes mine, ever so slightly.

_Everybody hurts._  
Take comfort in your friends.  
Everybody hurts.  
Don't throw your hand.  
Oh, no. Don't throw your hand.

We stay like that for a while, and I begin to wonder if he has fallen asleep. He's still suffering from insomnia, so when he really does fall asleep, we all tend to freeze in whatever position we find ourselves until he stirs again. We've all gotten some interesting muscle cramps the last few days.  
  
But after a moment, his eyes slide open again, a look of nervous speculation in their depths. I raise an eyebrow in question, and watch in astonishment as a soft blush stains his pale cheeks. He drops his gaze to our hands, and squeezes gently again. I squeeze back encouragingly.  
  
"Heero... could you... do something for me?" he asks, so quietly, so hesitantly, that I can hardly believe it's Duo speaking.  
  
"Anything I can," I answer, for once without hesitation to think. Sometimes I think too much.  
  
He bites his lower lip in an incredibly endearing gesture that fascinates me. "Could you... would you...hold me?" he whispers.  
  
I am stunned at this request, and can only stare at him silently for a moment until his shoulders begin to hunch slightly with unhappiness. "Shit, I'm sorry, I shouldn't say stupid things like that," he mutters, pulling his hand from mine to rub angrily at his eyes again.  
  
Without really thinking about it, I rise from the chair and settle my hip on the bed. He freezes in surprise. "Heero?" he murmurs questioningly. In reply, I slide my hands beneath his arms, lifting his upper body easily as I shift myself back against the headboard. He's so light, and almost trembling with tension as I settle his body against my chest in lieu of a pillow. He remains rigid against me, and I slip my arms around him, holding him loosely. After another moment's hesitation, he relaxes and I feel his arm slide around my waist, his head tucked securely under my chin.  
  
And I feel such a rush of pure emotion...   
  
I close my eyes against too recent, painful memories, but that only makes the vision clearer. I fall to my knees beside the bathtub, staring in shock and horror at the rusty red color of the water, the discarded scrap of metal on the edge, white porcelain marred by smears of crimson. Empty violet eyes stare blindly at me, and I am only dimly aware that I am yelling, screaming, as I watch him slipping away from me...   
  
I never knew what to make of him. He made me uncomfortable because he expected more from me than the bare minimum I was accustomed to giving. He's not like Relena. She provides her own fantasy of the Heero she wants, not requiring any particular effort on my part. Duo... Duo wants me to be human.  
  
No. Duo reminds me that I _am_ human.  
  
And for that I have pushed him away and hit him, and been cruel, because it hurts to be human. To be human is to feel, and I don't like it. Odin told me to always follow my emotions, and I passed that advice on to Trowa. Because I couldn't use it. Because I didn't want to.  
  
All my emotions had ever led me to was pain.  
  
But now, here, with Duo alive and warm in my arms...   
  
This is not painful. Or, it is, but... a good pain. A pleasant agony that I want to hold onto and cherish...   
  
My arms tighten around him, and I turn my head, burying my face in his abundant hair. I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, and it doesn't matter if he only wanted me because of a chemical imbalance. I'm not sure I was ready to deal with that anyway. But he does care about me, that's true and real, and I... and I...   
  
I almost lost him. I almost lost this.  
  
I pull my face away from his hair and loosen my grip enough that I can tip his face up to look at mine. He stares at me in amazement.  
  
"You see?" I ask softly, rubbing my thumb gently against his jaw. "Everybody cries."

_If you feel like you're alone,_  
no, no, no, you are not alone  
If you're on your own in this life,  
the days and nights are long,  
when you think you've had too much of this life to hang on.

"Heero... " he murmurs, shock and dawning wonder in his voice. He reaches up to touch my cheek, gently wiping away a tear.  
  
"I need you to get through this," I tell him, my voice hushed and strained. I need him to stay with me, because otherwise I'll never know what this wonderful ache in my chest is all about.  
  
He stares at me silently for a moment, contemplating something I cannot begin to guess at that he seems to see in the depths of my eyes.  
  
"You know... " he says slowly after a while, still staring into my eyes. "It wasn't all just crazy brain chemicals."  
  
I don't know what to say to that, so I just continue to stare at him.  
  
A ghost of his familiar cocky smirk appears, growing slightly stronger as I watch. "I think I'll be okay," he informs me before burrowing his head beneath my chin again.

_Well, everybody hurts sometimes,_  
everybody cries.  
And everybody hurts sometimes.  
And everybody hurts sometimes.

After a few minutes, I feel him relax even further against me, and I can tell from the rhythm of his breathing that he has fallen asleep for real this time.  
  
Trowa pokes his head in the door, and somehow manages not to even flinch in surprise at the sight. I shake my head slightly, trying to let him know Duo has fallen asleep and it would take an act of that God he doesn't believe in to move me right now.  
  
Duo lets out a soft snore.  
  
Trowa shoots me a triumphant smirk, and pulls the door silently shut.  
  
I don't know what he's so smug about.  
  
I rub my cheek gently against Duo's hair, soothed by his presence. I won't allow myself to fall asleep, though.  
  
I will watch over him. I will hold him, and I will never let him go.  
  
I will not let him leave me.  
  
I will stay with him.

_So, hold on, hold on.  
Hold on, hold on.  
Hold on, hold on.  
Hold on, hold on... _

_Everybody hurts.  
You are not alone._  
  
---


End file.
